The night before it began
by Bella
Summary: It’s the night before everything was set in motion by Much going deer hunting in Sherwood.


**The night before it began**

Author: Bella

Email: 1971bastetgmx.de

Disclaimer: "Robin of Sherwood" belongs to HTV and Richard Carpenter. No profit is made.

Note: Please bear in mind that English isn't my native language. Comments are very much appreciated.

Summary: It's the night before everything was set in motion by Much going deer hunting in Sherwood.

**The night before it began**

Herne, the hunter's shaman threw herbs into the small fire. Opening his spirit he received his God's message.

"The time for the chosen one has come."

Dickon and Tom huddled together in their dark cell. Their mad cell comrade spoke soothingly to his favourite rat Arthur. Both feared the moment, the ladder would be let down and one of them had to go up to meet their fate. Tom would probably loose a hand, Dickon his life or he would be sold off into slavery. Will Scarlet replayed the moment, when he came back and found drunken mercenaries on their wild horses that trampled a body crushed and bloodied beyond recognition. Just the red leather rags, Elena used as shoes told Will that the corpse had been once his wife. And once again he felt the power of the rage and he relished the satisfying feeling of killing three of hose bastards before the others had overthrown him. He had already been sentenced by the sheriff. Within the week he would be hanged. But it had all been worth it and the only regret he had was that he hadn't had the opportunity to finish off all of them.

Friar Tuck knelt in front of a small cross, nailed against the naked wall of his small room. He prayed to Jesus for guidance and to give his heartfelt thanks to the Almighty. Just the other day a messenger had brought abbot Hugo's permission to let Lady Marian of Leaford enter the order as a novice. Tuck felt that his little flower would be safe now. Of lately, too many greedy glances had been sent in her direction by men who hadn't had the best intentions for the girl.

The body of John Little writhed within the magic circle. Deep within him there was a spot, a spot where he lived. The Baron de Belleme tried to get in contact with his master, the dark Lord Azeal. But the Lord wasn't inclined to speak through John Little to his faithful servant. De Belleme felt rage and fear. Why refused the Lord to speak to him? Hadn't he been a good servant since his initiation in the Holy Land?

"My Lord, I'm here to serve you. Let me know THY will!"

But John Little could only writhe with foam coming out of this mouth. In a dark corner Nasir, the Baron's saracen and guard watched silently, carefully hiding the contempt he felt for the Baron. However, he had to fulfill his family's obligation to the Baron. He would serve him until one of them was dead.

Unbelieving the abbot listened to his script who was reading his brother Robert's letter. Once again the abbey's fishpond was the source of differences between the brothers. Vexed he sent the script away and stared into the fire in the fire-place. He needed to come up with a strategy to deal with his brother since it was out of question that he'd lowered the waterlevel. His friars needed the fish to nourish them. It was the rule of the order and by God, he, Hugo de Rainault, would not break it.

Sleeplessly Marian tossed in her bed. Her hand wandered for comfort to the fragile gold cross the messenger had brought with the abbot's letter of admittence to Kirkless. Just another fortnight and she'd be in the arms of the church. She couldn't wait much longer until the gates closed behind her. She shuddered when she looked back at the row of suitors. Some were old enough to be her father, others had looked at her with lust and greed in their eyes and turned away when they learned she was only Saxon. Some discarded her because she called only 400 acres her own. And then there were those who wanted a mute and obidient wife, not a wild tempered, headstrong and outspoken redhead. Thankfully, her wards had never consented marriage to one of them. But she knew both brothers de Rainault followed their own agenda. There was no guarantee that they wouldn't change their mind and give her away to some nobleman, if it fit into their plans to achieve even more power and riches.

No man had looked at her with love and adoration since her father went to the Holy Land. And she longed to be loved by a man. She smiled as she allowed herself to dream. A man, who adored her. A noble man he would be, honourable and virtuous. And he would be young and handsome with a beautiful smile. He'd know what he wanted and how get it without being cruel. He would be a geat warrior, but not interested to fight far, far away from her. He would stay and bring peace to his serfs and bondsmen. He'd be juste and gentle. And she would love him for all that until she died. The cross her her hand pressed itself into her heated flesh and reminded her that such a man didn't exist for her. Marian sighed and turned on her other side. She scolded herself. It wasn't right to dream of a husband and love, when she pledged herself to God.

Sir Guy de Guisburne watched the Sheriff from under his leashes before he lowered his gaze back to the game board. He hated playing this new game and he was no good in it. He still tended to mix up the moves of the various pieces. He was a soldier after all, not a courtier. He felt most comfortable, when he was with his men on the hunt for poachers. A good straight task which brought immediate results. He didn't like the concept of the game which required thinking way ahead of the present moment. The Sheriff called this having a strategy, when you knew that in about ten moves you'd need to do this to make your opponent do that.

Half drunk Robert de Rainault watched his underling struggle with the bishop and the knight. Guisburne was a hopeless case. Once again he'd be check-mate in another five moves. Looking over the table at the young blonde man, Robert sent a prayer to the Lord above that no real challenge would ever be thrown at them while Guisburne would serve as his deputy.

"Check-mate, Guisburne."

Robin of Loxley strained to hear his foster parents whisper in the dark. Much's deep breaths next to him told Robin his little brother was fast asleep.

"It's high time, Adam. Soon he will be already twenty."

"You're right, Bess. We've already waited much too long. When I was his age, we were already married for four years."

"And had two children. God bless their little souls. There is so much unrest in him. And he's constantly off to the forrest. You need to keep him at the mill, Adam."

"I know. But how can I? He's got so much of Ailric in him. He's a rebel in his heart and a warrior."

"And this is why he needs to marry. A young wife has tamed yet all wild horses. I'm afraid he'll get in trouble. Rather sooner than later."

"And we need him. Much is a good boy, but he's slow in the head. He'll never make it on his own. Robin can do the thinking and Much can do the work in the mill."

"I've been thinking about Peg, the blacksmith's daughter. I've seen her giving Robin the eye. And I think, her father won't oppose. Robin's a good man. Peg will have it good with him. And she's healthy and strong. She will make a good wife. Her mother's a good cook and she knows how to keep the money together and the house clean."

"Peg? Well, let's talk to Matthew next Sunday after church."

Robin closed his eyes. They wanted him to marry! And of all the girls in the world they decided on Peg! Her image floated in front of his eyes. The fifteen year old blonde was short and plump with wide hips and big breasts that swayed when she walked. The other boys were wild about her. But Robin disliked her since he had sat in a birch when she had come to kill a goose last autumn. Clearly he had seen how her eyes had shone and the exstatic smile on her face when the goose died. Peg enjoyed killing. That alone would have turned him away from her, but she never gave even the smallest slice of bread to the poor.

No, he would rather go and live in the forrest, which felt more of a home to him than the miller's house anyway. But it would be nice to have a wife and a companion. Someone he could share everything with. Someone he could love and who would love him in return. She would be different from all the girls he knew. She would be tall and lean with breasts that fit her body and into his hands. Robin suppressed a moan. Now wasn't the time to relieve himself, when his parents were still awake. She would be proud and self-assured. And she'd have a fiery temper, maybe even be headstrong. But she would also be loving and gentle. A girl who didn't avert her eyes from the injustice of the world or would think first what was to gain. And oh so beautiful like a fairy or like an early morning in May in Sherwood when the night dew enchanted the colours of the earth – green and red. And they'd live in Sherwood until forever.

But then he sobered up. Such a girl didn't exist and he wouldn't live in Sherwood. He'd marry Peg and work in the mill with Much and try to forget his dreams.

Much snorted and woke up. His belly ached with hunger. Tomorrow he'd take Robin's bow and go deer hunting in Sherwood. The king was far away. He wouldn't never know.

THE END (or is it the beginning?)


End file.
